Let me say this: when I was young and free and testing the waters a lot, I used contraceptives often. I did it because I was not ready for a child. I was not ready for the responsibilities, for the journey itself. So I always had one with me.

Then I got married.

When we started trying to have children, our nights turned from pleasure to responsibility. Every day, we tried. But every month, I saw my period.

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Every time, people recommended a pastor. I dressed up and went to them. When they asked for outrageous consultation fees, I paid. I did all the things they asked. I did them with my fingers crossed, praying that this month I would take seed. But nothing.

I entered places I should not have entered, all for the fruit of the womb.

At some point, the hospital told me I had fibroids. They said that was the reason for my bareness. They said if I underwent surgery, everything would be fine. Other women who had fibroids testified that after they went for surgery, they took seed. So I agreed. But then I found one hospital that said they could treat it without surgery, and I was relieved. They poked things inside me. I drank concoctions. They took my money. Nothing changed.

Eventually, I had the proper surgery.

After that, I got pregnant. And then I miscarried. I almost died from crying.   After that miscarriage, I had another three miscarriages.

Later, I was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism in Ghana. The treatment was extremely expensive. Every three weeks, I had to do blood tests, pay specialists, and buy medication. My sister came from America and gave me two thousand dollars to start a business. Within no time, all the money was gone on hospital bills.

I got to a point where I said, no. I cannot do this anymore.

By God’s grace, I had the opportunity to travel to the UK. That was when I finally discovered the real issue. The contraceptives I took when I was younger had messed with my hormones. They were the cause of both the miscarriages and the hyperthyroidism. I was told I would be on medication for the rest of my life. And honestly, I made peace with it.

In Ghana, we do not talk enough about hormones causing miscarriages. But they do.

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I later brought my husband to the UK, and within just one year of being together here, we welcomed our beautiful baby girl.

What I have learned is that in the search for children, we sometimes get so lost in the pain that we forget to enjoy life itself. It is hard, I know. But please try to live. Thank God for life. Trust that your time will come.

—Kasoa

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